


Downtown'

by imgory



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Bartender Sapnap?, Cigarettes, Flirting, Jazz Age, Jazz lover George, Jazz singer Dream, M/M, Speakeasies, roaring 20's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgory/pseuds/imgory
Summary: “You know, we rarely get any newcomers around here… especially with an accent like yours.”“Hmm… is that a good or a bad thing?” George gave a playful reply as a smile crept on his face.“You tell me.” a small laughed escaped his lips and proceeds to ask-“What’s your name?”“George.”“No no, your full name.”He hummed to himself and replied hesitantly. “...George Davidson.”“So tell me George Davidson, what brings you to the stork club? Everyone here has been patrons since the very beginning.” He called out and gestured his arm towards the masses. The group of dedicated women giggling and waving like school girls, he just replied with a wink and a smile.George found himself wanting to go out of his comfort zone. The night was young and so was the local speakeasy. Jazz music and pretty boys with green eyes and the vocals from a god, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Downtown'

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! this is my first time writing a story on here and I've been feeling super inspired recently so I will be writing more stories but for now take this as my beginning.
> 
> This was heavily inspired by the song 'Art deco' by Lana Del Rey, and re-watched The Great Gatsby so I was feeling a bit nostalgic. 
> 
> I know the main characters of this story are a delicate topic but please know that this is all for fun and if either cc wants me to take it down at any point, I will.
> 
> alright I hope you guys enjoy!

The air was frigid, unfriendly even, however, the city was yet to be put to rest. It was 1927, and the streets of New York shined with the dark silver street lamps and a large neon sign that read ‘ _Stork Club’_ on the 53rd street of Manhattan.

As George walked on the rough but dusty pavement, pondering if this is truly how he wanted to spend his night. George wasn’t much of a drinker, nor was he one to step outside of his comfort zone. But when he had heard the local speakeasy was having a jazz night, his mind had filled with wonders and excitement. He wanted to try something new, and he was extremely passionate about jazz. 

The Prohibition laws had still been set but word never dies, and the thrill of it all is enticing to say the least. The Stork Club had originally taken place in 58th street, but had been moved due to the police getting tipped that there was alcohol and such being distributed behind the law. However, the police were feared by no one and with the snap of a finger was changed into where it is now.

And there he stood, wondering if it’s really worth it. George is shy, and doesn’t know what to do. The arched windows were painted pitch black from the inside, as if that wouldn’t be suspicious enough to anyone who meets the eye. He took a deep breath, in his nose and exhaled through his mouth. With the wind that blew, carried his feet through the door and found himself in a nearly deserted restaurant. It was small, looked like a stowaway for young couples and the tables were candle lit, despite being nearly empty. 

“Hi there handsome, first time?” George’s train of thought was halted by the woman leaning against a small wooden podium. Her hair was a pale blonde, the color of a milk creme- curled up just above her shoulder. She wore a white thin feathered boa around her neck and the left side was wrapped gently around her arm. Her flapper dress shined a gentle unsaturated gold, similar to the color of her hair, reaching the top of knees. The sequin beads rained just a bit longer.

George couldn’t really find the words to speak, he was quite nervous. He gave her a slow nod, and she laughed a gentle laugh at the sight. It was more motherly if anything. “Down that hallway, there’ll be two doors. You’ll know which one to go through, lucky for you we were just about to start.” she ended her sentence with a closed eye smile and George sighed a quiet ‘thank you.’

He walked towards the short, dimly lit hallway that contained two doors. One a basic dark wooden door, followed by an even darker frame, the other door was as obvious as it could be. It was bigger, and a deep but saturated red. The frame around the door was a rusted gold, that followed along to the elongated door knob.

It’s as if he walked through a portal with no return, a new world lied. It was packed to the brim with eccentric young women and dashing gentlemen, thrill seekers. Looking to enjoy their night with the law in their hands. George was taken aback. He couldn’t believe that so much delight could be hidden in the shadows.

The room was large, large enough to carry a small stage and booths running down the side. A bar running lines of just about any alcohol you could get your hands on. The lighting was dark, but it was strong- it made the atmosphere shimmer. George took one more concentrated look around to get a feel for the place and his eyes had caught another. 

A man with looks that could kill, and a charm that could sway anyone in the public eye. His hair was a perfect copper, a mix of brown and blonde that George couldn’t comprehend. He was tall, and towered over the many just enchanted by him. He leaned against a booth filled with a handful of women, another handful just surrounding him from the outside. His smile was bright, with perfectly white teeth. The ladies around him laughed and giggled like no other. 

The man had paid no mind but he had felt a pair of eyes lay upon him that weren’t from the group around him, it was different. His eyes scanned to the very front, where George had found himself stuck, both physically and mentally. For nothing longer than several seconds, their eyes had met.

_Green on Brown._

George had blamed it on a trance, he couldn’t find the moment to stop looking. It’s as if he looked down on him, despite being on the other side of the room. Had eyes as deep as a forest green, but glimmered like a gem in the avid light. His stare could hold George down from ever moving again. However, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Don’t stand idle for too long honey, you never know who’s behind you.” The same women from before had cut his focus half, but he didn’t mind it. “Right, sorry.” George apologized whilst closing the door behind her as she walked past him. She just sent him another smile to indicate all was well, and walked towards the back of the room. 

He sighed once more, his nervousness was getting to him and nearly convinced him to make a run for it. However, that all changed when the music filled the room, skimming his ears. The sound of piano began, and golden trumpets followed along. Nothing crazy or bone chilling, but calming. The piano was upbeat, soothing itself with the trumpets, they made sure to fit perfectly together. George hadn’t even realized that he found himself at the front of the stage, watching the musicians with a hidden joy. The music was mesmerizing.

_“Is this your first time?”_ a husky but smooth voice asked, George had pin pointed this voice to the man whose eyes were the color of new money. 

“Is it that obvious?” George scoffed. His eyes didn’t stray from the stage however.

“Painfully so.” The voice behind him gave a small chuckle, and with that, George finally decided to look. His gaze however had barely moved, he tilted his face just enough to where his eyes could go to the very corner and gave him a full view of this gorgeous stranger.

His prediction was correct, and this time he had gotten an even clearer view. There stood the man he first shared eye contact with when he first entered this neoworld. He was wearing a fully black coated suit, which yelled luxury. His bowtie however was an emerald green, matching the color of his eyes but to an extent. He carried a newly smoken cigarette in between his middle and pointer finger. When he brought it up to his lips, inhaling, he looked back at George.

And there they both stood once more. _Green on Brown_. His stare followed the same intention as before, like he was looking down on George. It wasn’t in a condescending sense however, at least George believed so. It might have been due to the fact that he was much shorter than this handsome stranger. The look was quite seductive, as if he was trying to read through him.

George didn’t want to fall under as he did the first time, so his eyes led back to the stage.

“You know, we rarely get any newcomers around here… especially with an accent like yours.” 

“Hmm… is that a good or a bad thing?” George gave a playful reply as a smile crept on his face. 

“You tell me.” a small laughed escaped his lips and proceeds to ask-

“What’s your name?”

“George.”

“No no, your full name.”

He hummed to himself and replied hesitantly.

“...George Davidson.”

“So tell me George Davidson, what brings you to the stork club? Everyone here have been patrons since the very beginning.” He called out and gestured his arm towards the masses. The group of dedicated women giggling and waving like school girls, he just replied with a wink and a smile.

“Well… this place is pretty much the talk of the town, you aren’t as hidden as you may believe.” George continued the playful tone. “I love jazz music, and I heard this place was the best of the best.” You can tell that this was no joke, his eyes were basically glowing at the sight in front of him.

“Well then, let me get you something to drink. Do I need to break our drink menu down for you?” The man offered but George just nodded his head.

“I’ll take a _French 75,_ please and thank you.” George spoke with confidence, he may not be a drinker but this was one of the drinks he tolerated and preferred over most. It was a fancy name for champagne. 

The man smiled, his teeth were as white as pearls and he was slightly impressed by this. He took one more sharp inhale from his cigarette, “Let me go get that for you.” As he began to walk, George found himself acting without thought.

“Wait-” He called out and grabbed gently onto the man’s wrist. To George’s own surprise, he’s never usually done something like that before. “Aw you’re already obsessed with me-” He found himself surprised as well but could really only appeal to tease George. “You haven’t even seen the best of me yet!” He chuckled with a small wheeze while continuing the tease fest.

“I-I am not!... How am I going to let a stranger get me a drink and yet I don’t even know his name?” George let go of his wrist and fluffed down his suit coat in hidden embarrassment. But he didn’t lie, genuinely curious about the gorgeous stranger who stood in front of him.

“I go by Dream.” He gave him a reassuring smirk and continued his original plan in sight. George watched as he casually walked up to the bar and had an easy conversation with the bartender, they seemed pretty friendly. The mysterious bartender had a black suit vest and his white buttoned up sleeves were rolled up before his elbows. His hair was sleek and black, reaching a long length which is pretty different for the trends. It was layered, the front reached the sides of his face and the back was just above his shoulders, carrying a white bandana tied around his forehead. 

When George caught a glimpse of Dream grabbing a tall champagne glass with a deep yellow fizz, he quickly moved his gaze to the stage. He noticed they were setting up a golden microphone stand and jazz players with instruments ranging from the trumpet to the saxophone, and so on. He had completely forgotten that there was going to be a performance, which had originally pushed him to come and visit. ‘ _Damn him.’_ George thought to himself realizing that Dream had clouded his mind. 

Speak of the devil.

“Here you go _-_ ” The taller man handed him the champagne glass with ease, George found himself smiling. “You’ll need it for the show.” Dream sent him a wink and proceeded onward. 

“What-” George questioned as he watched Dream walk up a small but sturdy staircase that led up to the stage, grabbing on the gaudy microphone that stood in front of him. The stage lights moved to bring attention to the man who stood with confidence that was just radiating off of him, George could feel it even if it was miles away. Dream could light the room by himself but this was nothing short of _graceful_. 

“ _Hello my ravishing ladies and dashing gentlemen, welcome to the stork club!”_ and once again his confidence grew even more than George thought it could. He spoke deep but with energy and his words were smooth, not one stutter. With that he earned cheers and claps, the women throwing their feathered boa’s in the air with excitement. 

“ _Ah what an excited crowd! let us not delay this any further then?”_ He gave a cheeky but seductive smile and his eyes fluttered. With a snap of his fingers, the cue reached the men with the instruments and they all began with a slow but smooth tune. His eyes averted back to the crowd and he hummed with the tune. The microphone amplified the sound to reach the entirety of the room. 

He started to sing. Gentle and smooth but with power. His right hand grabbed at the end of the microphone and his left on the middle of the stand, his eyes closed with the effort he put into the music. 

George Davidson found himself taken aback. There he stood, at the front of the stage, watching Dream sing carelessly but ever so perfectly. It’s like the God’s chose him for this. At least that’s what George thought. 

“Hit it!” Dream looked back at his supporting musicians as they picked up speed. The song went from a gentle touch to an upbeat party riser. He grabbed the microphone off its stand and followed along. Each flapper found themselves a dance partner and followed the beat almost perfectly. However, George had no dancing partner. He didn’t care that much. He was breathing in the sight in front of him. 

The world around him didn’t exist at this current moment. His eyes only counted Dream. Dream danced along with the sound of his own voice that didn’t stray within the movement. George was breathless. He hadn’t realized his lips were parted from shock, and he hadn’t moved an inch. He stood at the very front of the stage, falling deep.

Dream had caught sight of this. At the climax of the song he dropped with grace and slid to the end of the stage, stopping right in front of George. There they both stood,

_Green on Brown._

George found himself melting. Dream’s gaze was burning him alive, emerald green and the chase. The only space between them was the microphone. Dream smirked against it and pushed it to the side, revealing words that only George could hear. 

“Be careful _Georgie-”_ Dream slid his hand softly under George’s chin and with a gentle push, his parted lips were back to their original state. 

“You’ll catch flies.” 

Dream chuckled with a slight mischievous tone, and brought the microphone back. He got up and continued the performance, feeding the crowd once more. 

George furrowed his eyebrows together, a light pink rested across his cheeks. Despite nearly being in a trance… a hypnosis? Or whatever the hell that was. George brought his full champagne glass to his mouth and nearly swallowed it full. He was knocked back into reality and the only thought in his mind was… 

‘Damn him, Damn him, Damn him damn him damn him-’

He hadn’t even realized the song had come to an end, but the cheers and excitement were overwhelmingly loud. George still felt his face warm. Also pink. He watched Dream give the crowd a wave and take the steps off the stage. 

“So!-” Dream clapped his hands together, “How’d ya like the show?”

“You’re crazy.” George replied almost instantly.

“Oh come on now! It was in the heat of the moment George Davidson!”

“Oh so now i'm back to being George Davidson?! What happened to _Georgie?”_ He dramatized the last word, the blush on his cheeks were still apparent. He decided to take in the small amount he had left of his French 75.

“But... It was amazing. All of it.” George spoke truthfully. It was fantastic and he loved every minute. He had a slight feeling Dream already knew that, but felt entitled to say it anyways. 

“Awww you flatter me~” Dream teased the shorter brit. George rolled his eyes, retaliating with-

“Not just you idiot. The music.” but he felt a smile on his lips. Dream smiled too, a short but sweet moment between the two. 

“So tell me George Davidson-” Dream was interrupted by the sound of his bartender friend smacking a glass on the black marble counter. “Everyone out! Police got tipped and now they are on the way.” He spoke loud but nonchalantly. Enough to get the crowd’s attention as they all gathered to a door in the back. However, none of them looked afraid or depressed to leave. If anything they all seem excited, like it was their last fun challenge for the night. Dream sighed with annoyance.

George hadn’t even noticed that door. “Where does that lead to?” he pointed but instead of answering his question, Dream grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to a nearby closet. He didn’t find the time to protest.

“Sorry Georgie, but if we didn’t act fast we would've gotten caught in the crossfire. I also would rather we not continue this conversation behind bars.” Dream joked with a chuckle following along his statement. “Yeah I guess you’re right.” George smiled.

The closet was pitch black, the only light the two men had was the moon shining through the small window. It shined against Dream’s face, highlighting all of his features. Despite his eyes being tonight’s main attraction, this atmosphere was enticing. George’s eyes followed the freckles that lied along his toned cheeks. His jawline was sharp, his lips looked rough but fitting. 

George swallowed the lump in his throat.

He took a look around and noticed boxes stacked in multiple piles, each containing pure but fancy glass bottles of alcohol. He assumed this is where they kept their stash.

“What were you going to ask me earlier?” Dream interrupted his train of thought. 

“Huh? Oh, I asked where the other door led to, since every other person was using it as a means to escape.” George replied.

“Ah that leads to the outside, back parts of the stork club. However, we have a tall fence surrounding the streets so the law breakers don’t get caught by the eye.” Dream answered truthfully, but in turn it made George question. 

“Why’d we go in here then? Is this like your hiding spot or something.” He joked, a smile crept on his lips.

“Well you could say that…” Dream grabbed a cigarette pack from the pocket of his suit. He grabbed one from inside of the pack and placed it in between his lips. The poor cigarette was basically threatening to slip. Proceeding to pull a vintage but portable silver lighter, a small but crooked smiley face decorated on the front. The cap made a clicking sound when he opened it to set the bud of his cigarette aflame.

The orange light lit up the small room for a second or two. Not that it really mattered much.

He put the contents back in his pocket and took a deep inhale. Smoke filled the air and George tried his best not to cough. Dream grabbed the cigarette and blew out, he seemed hesitant.

“The truth of the matter is, I wanted you to myself for a bit.” He ran his free hand against the back of his head. His confidence was surely seeping through the cracks.

“The crowd was starting to bother me. Plus I am not allowed to leave. I do work here after all.” Dream chuckled, despite this being true, it wasn’t always the case. He would usually help his fellow colleagues distract the police and send them on their way.

George pretended he didn't hear the first part. As much as he processed it in his brain about a million times, he pretended he didn’t hear it.

“You getting bothered by a crowd?! I thought you were good at everything, never took you for a bad liar.” George found himself laughing, slightly in disbelief.

“Oh come on it’s true!... Listen, I love a good crowd at the moment but sometimes I just find myself wanting more.” Dream’s tone shifted to a serious one. He’s never usually this admitting, especially to a stranger. He found himself blaming it on the moon, it was a full one tonight. George wasn’t helping him either.

“Are you saying I'm more than just a crowd, Dream?” This time George was the teaser. A smirk followed his lips. It felt good to get back at him.

Dream managed a side smile despite the cigarette caught against his teeth. He knew that George was trying to pin his own tricks against him, Little did George know that it wouldn’t work. Can’t out tease the master!

“Maybe I am, you tell me.” Dream decided to finally look back at George, he had avoided it throughout this entire moment. He had to use his trump card for this one or everything would fall apart.

“Tell me George Davidson,” He took one last inhale of his cigarette. His eyes flickered, the moonlight sinking in deeper than before. The blush George thought he outran had come crawling back. His cheeks felt warm.

_Green on Brown_. 

“ _Have you ever kissed a stranger in the dark?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some kudos and comments if you enjoyed! I'll work on the second part soon, bye!


End file.
